Simply Rose
by Kashy
Summary: Scorpius/Rose -- and that smells that encases you... well it's simply Rose.


_**Disclaimer: **__Anything and everything to do with the Harry Potter world is absolutely not mine._

* * *

**Simply Rose**

_and that smell that encases you…well it's simply Rose_

* * *

(freesia)

The smell of flowers, of freesia always reminds you of a summer's day. It is fresh and wonderful, it's glorious. It was something that you would be able to smell for the rest of your life.

It was the first taste, the first sense, the first smell of her. It was simply beautiful, breathtaking and absolutely magical. The smell of freesia now reminded you of magic, because she was simply magic, utterly and purely magic and there was no stopping her.

The smell always reminded you of that day on the train, when you had first met her, first glimpsed at her in the compartment where you both where sitting. The other girls didn't smell as nice, they weren't as good as her. One smelt like salt, another like nothing and one needed to stop wearing so much perfume.

To you, she had smelt like nothing you had ever smelt before. The others didn't notice it, but you did and you would always remember it, because that day she simply smelled like Rose.

* * *

(vanilla)

The girl next to you smells like vanilla. Not the nice type of vanilla, not just a small scent of whiff of it, but a lot. Enough to make your senses cry. You have never wanted to get away from a girl so badly.

Vanilla is actually one of your favourite smells; you don't need a reason to like vanilla. It reminds you of your grandmother, who always seems to smell like it, her house seems to reek of it too. But in a good way, in a nice wonderful sort of way that make your senses tingle, that make them come alive.

When the bells rings your from your seat as you could possibly go, wanting nothing more than to get away from the vanilla smelling girl. It was rude of you to rush away, but nothing in the world could make you stand another hint of vanilla, not after that lesson anyway. You start to dread going to your grandmother Narcissa, because you'll have to smell it again.

A girl runs into you, so quickly that you didn't even notice her. She picks up her books, her hair shielding her reddening cheeks. "Sorry," she breathes on your face before taking off.

Her breath smelt like vanilla and suddenly you can handle your grandmother again.

* * *

(fire)

The crackling of the fire against the common room brought you out of your thoughts. It was loud and annoying, but looked and smelt good, bringing heat to your bones.

The flames danced wildly, uncontrollably and vividly against the back of the fireplace. The jumped and they twisted, turning and swirls in so many patterns that other probably couldn't see. The burning wood smelt good to you, it was like the burning of a forest, the burning of life.

All you can see is red; nothing around you but the red fire really matters. Orange too, red and orange that surround your senses. And you think of her.

The red head, the girl with the slightly orange hair that reminds you of the common room fire.

* * *

(chocolate)

The dark, rich sweet has always made you cringe. Millie Nott is eating some right in front of you, making it look more disgusting than ever. Chocolate is smothered into mouths all around you, what's any special occasion without chocolate anyway? It's a party and all there is to east is lollies and chocolate, neither of them are really appealing to you.

You go and sit in a corner with your butterbeer as company, away from Millie and everybody else. The dark corner is welcome, out of sight from everybody else. Your head leans back against the soft cushion of the chair you decided to sit on and your eyes close on their own accord. You really wish your friend hadn't dragged you to this party.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" a voice asks as the chair cushion beside you sinks slightly. You open your eyes to see Rose beside you with her head tilted to the side, regarding you curiously. "Chocolate," she offers, holding out a chocolate frog.

You shake your head at her. "Sorry, don't eat chocolate."

"Really?" she asks, slightly surprised as she unwraps the packaging and takes out the frog. "Are you sure?"

You nod as she licks the chocolate and grins at you. As appealing as the chocolate looks now, you still can't bring yourself to eat it. And now you're pretty sure that looking you'll never look at chocolate the same again either.

* * *

(old books)

The library has to be one of your least favourite places in the whole castle. You'd prefer to fail a subject then be in the library attempting to study. The reason you're in the library in the first place is because you are failing a subject, and need the study to pass so you don't have to admit that you're actually failing.

Your nose crinkles as the smell of old books hits you, it's so unappealing and unwanted that your feet try to run, but your brain tells you to stay. You hate your brain for making you stay and you curse it until you can't think of anymore insults. But then suddenly, you're thanking your brain because there, over in a corner is the girl that you admire from afar.

Of course, you think, she's in a library. She is a freaking book worm after all. Though, she does seem to party when given the chance. She intrigues you to no end, because she smells like old books because she's been sitting in the library for most of her time at school, yet she's the type of girl that is seen at a party.

You saunter over to her and take a seat, inhaling deeply to see if she really does smell like old book. All you can smell is the books, but really that could just be because you're in a library.

Dusty, old books have never been so appealing.

* * *

(lavender)

The smell of flowers washing over you as a little girl walks past holding a bunch tightly in her small, tanned hand.

"Uhhh," your friend mutters from beside you, "Does the smell of flowers annoy you as much as it annoys me?"

You laugh at him. "No, not really."

He scrunches up his nose. "Do you think that all those girls that are named after flowers actually smell like that flower?"

You shrug. "I'm pretty sure that Daisy Zabini smells like daisies."

"What about that Thomas girl, Hibiscus or whatever her name is. I think she smells more like those than any other flower."

"The Potter girl probably smells like lilies," you laugh.

"I say the Weasley girl smells like lavender though, not roses."

You look at him curiously. "And how would you know that?"

He shrugs and smiles. You remind yourself to find out if she really does smell like lavender.

* * *

(strawberry)

You had never thought that you would be sitting underneath a tree by the lake with a Gryffindor girl. You'd actually swear on your life that you had never even thought about it. But somehow it had happened and under the shade of a tall, oak tree was the girl of your desires.

"Do you like strawberries?" she asks as she leans back on the grass, twirling the said object around in the fingers.

You shrug and watch as her delicate hands play with if softly. "They're all right."

She hums and sits up again. "I think my hair looks like a strawberry."

"I think your face looks like a strawberry when you're embarrassed," you laugh. A blush creeps up her face and her cheeks go as red as you expected. "But your hair looks more like an orange."

She cringes and takes a bite of the fruit. "I hate oranges."

"I don't," you reply smirking. "An orange Rose."

She smells her hair quickly and then looks at you. "My hair may be orange, but at least it smells like a strawberry."

* * *

(caramel)

Streets packed with people and shopping greet you as you enter Diagon Alley. To you this shopping trip is the beginning of a new year, a new way of thinking. It's also an opportunity to find people in your year and find out how much has actually changed over the summer holidays.

Albus Potter waves at you from a distance, over near Flourish and Blott's and you wave back to him. It feels strange to be waving to a Potter, but you've never actually been enemies with each other. You've always been sort-of-friends.

But he's not really the one that you're looking for, among all the people that you're bound to see today his cousin is the one that you really want to get a good look at. The crowd that's milling around have brown hair, blonde hair, black hair even some have highly eccentric colours like green and purple. But red is what you're looking for.

Red. But not her red. Another red head, that's too short and too tanned. And another and another, but none of them are what you're looking for. You continue to walk, but something grabs you hand, stopping you.

"Hey Scorpius," she sings brightly and you turn to see her.

But she is not what you expect. Gone is the red hair that been replaced with a caramel brown. You scrunch up your nose is disgust. "What happened to your hair?" you blurt out uncontrollably.

She frowns. "Don't you like it?"

"Of course I do," you force out, trying to smile.

In reality you've never seen a colour that could be more horrible.

* * *

(cherry)

The Great Hall is filled with happy chatting; people are catching up after their holidays. The food on the table looks more appealing than ever; you've always enjoyed the Hogwarts house elves cooking better than the one at home.

On one side of you is your friend, stuffing his face full of potato and on the other side is a skinny seventh year girl who's picking at her food. You wonder if she actually has an eating disorder as you watch her take a tiny bit of lettuce and cringe.

Across the hall the Hufflepuffs are playing games and eating happily, the Ravenclaws are multitasking by reading, eating and chatting at the same time and the small number of people wearing red and gold are making the most commotion like they always do.

More and more people are streaming through the doors of the hall, making it more and more crowded by the second. Your glad that you're not the slightest big claustrophobic. You marvel at all the people that are coming through the doors; Hogwarts seems more crowded than ever. You're positively sure that there really isn't this many in the school.

In the pack of Gryffindors that had just entered you notice her the most. She smiles at you from her table where she's sat down. Her lips look as bright as cherries and as she waves you can see that she's wearing the matching colour on her nails. All you can think is, what's with that girl and red.

* * *

(sun)

Outside is bright and colourful; the green of the trees looks even more brilliant against the unusually clouded, bright blue sky. The sun is beating down on your skin making it hot and sweating, but still pleasant. After all, you've got to enjoy it before the snow comes in.

It's Care of Magical Creatures, a subject that you hated except for the fact that it's outside. Sure, being outside in the cold and bleak is annoying but on days like this the subject is very welcome.

The subject is with the Gryffindors who seem to be enjoying the sun as well, but more from the shade of a nearby tree then out in the open like you and your friends. They're all laughing and chatting unlike the rest of you who are just standing and waiting for the teacher to arrive. Because after all, no matter how sunny it is, you can't show anybody how much you're actually enjoying yourself.

You watch them closely, actually wishing you were one of them at the moment. That you were so carefree and happy, that you were able to show that you enjoyed the sunlight as much as them. She's standing with them too; her hair illuminated in the sun looking brighter than ever, eyes that look like the sparkling lake and pale skin that has a few freckles, possibly from the sun.

You'll remember this moment for the rest of your life because the sun has never made anyone look so beautiful.

* * *

(daffodils)

She laughs happily and you can't help but smile. Her smile is infectious and her laughter is like nothing you have ever heard. This is better than anything you have ever experience. This is true and utter happiness.

Trying to compare her to other things like you have in the past is difficult, but at the moment she only reminds you of one thing.

Her personality is so bright, so beautiful that it reminds of the colour yellow. She's your flower, your yellow flower. She's a daffodil, happy and unique, bright and beautiful.

She is your daffodil.

* * *

(you)

Rose Weasley is many things; you can use so many words to describe her. But at the moment only one fits.

She's wrapped up in you dark sheets, hair spilled across the pillows and eyes closed. She looks like perfection, an utter beauty. You lean closer towards her and rest you head in the crook of her neck as you inhale deeply.

Finally she smells like you've always wanted her to.

She smells like you.

* * *

-x-

_So I really don't know what to make of this. Please review and tell me what you think… Reviewers are unique, just like Rose and Scorpius._


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